2024-11-17, 12:22 PM - Word count:
(This post was last modified: 2024-11-17, 12:22 PM by SleepyPlayz.)
A Bittersweet Goodbye.
I groaned, the heat of Spain might as well have killed me, it was so hot. Why did he have to stay loyal to this country of all places? Sure, dad was a football player, but it was torture being here, sitting around and waiting. I hate it, I hate everything about this country and the sport. “Grow up already, you’re not going to get through life with that kind of attitude.” My mother berated, bothering me even more. Spain was horrible, I’d rather have gone to America. Why couldn’t we stay there? Why did I have to be the consequence of a mediocre football player?!
I, in my 3-year old fit, threw a spoon on the ground, one that had dad’s name on it. Jackson. I hate it. I hate him. I hate that he’s never around, I hate that he’s always staying late after practice instead of staying at home and taking care of me! Why is he like this? This meaningless sport is taking away the other person who can take care of me the best, why?! I whined and I cried, my mother’s scolding getting louder and louder despite my best attempts to drown it out with the noises I was making. What good could she do for me? It’s not like she built a time machine to make sure he doesn’t play that stupid sport.
#-#
He pushed himself all the time. I stayed at home reading. I couldn’t care less for the TV. Who cared what my sad excuse of a father was doing for Catalunya? I hated those annoying cartoons or the ads talking about the team. I hated all of it. I want to spite him. I don’t know how to spite him though… maybe I could become a track and field star. I’ll show him how amazing I am at running. Wait, doesn’t soccer use your legs? Then I’ll sit at home and pout all day long! I don’t care!
If the world is an oyster, it’s a cruel one. I heard that saying somewhere from my mom. The world’s an oyster waiting to be opened, but this oyster’s refusing to be opened. Why can’t I pry my hands inside and rip it in half? It’s just a shell thing after all. It didn’t matter.
I walked over to my mom, planting my face into her tummy. I felt angry. I felt more than angry, I felt hate. I didn’t want to see him leave me anymore. I wanted to keep him, why couldn’t he stay with me? Why can’t we play together instead?
#-#
“Hey, Zoe!” Jackson called out, working in the colder conditions of Sweden, following his daughter to make sure she would be okay. He wasn’t some sort of helicopter parent, the same his mother had been to him. He was a lot better than that actually, he often pushed for his daughter to be independent from him while he did his own thing to keep up his form. Zoe was also about 16 and was enrolled in a local Swedish school and, despite barely understanding the language, she was able to get passing marks in her classes. She wasn’t by any means an A+ student anywhere, not even in Spain, but she almost always passed her classes. She often hovered around the B range in classes, and that helped her pass. It’s not that she wasn’t school smart, it’s that she preferred to focus on football rather than school, and when she wasn’t playing football, she often handed in assignments all at once rather than them being on time.
Jackson’s call went unanswered by a Zoe who was sleeping peacefully in her bed, having gotten slightly used to the colder climate of Sweden compared to Spain. He went to investigate. Today was a big day for her, and he wanted to celebrate with her. Making her breakfast, bringing her out to a diner, maybe gifting her something. Getting into the SSL was something special for the both of them, like how his brother celebrated his niece’s entrance into the SBA. Whether it was a management role or being put on a team, he wanted to do the same thing that his brother did for his nieces in America; celebrate. It was about the time for him to see his daughter get drafted into the SSL. She was extremely talented, after all. The daughter in question, though, was curled up in a blanket, mumbling something to herself about the Danish in Spanish when Jackson barged in. Surprisingly, she didn’t wake up. Minus the rambling about the Danish, that’s usually what happened on big days in her life. Whether it was a test, it was her own birthday, or it was something else that was a big event, she would always sleep in until the last possible minute. It made getting her out of bed for such big events a nightmare… how would she survive without him if she were to ever get into the SSL finals and win the cup? She wouldn’t get out of bed without someone else’s help. He chuckled at that thought before he closed her door silently, walking downstairs to cook something for breakfast.
What was a usual breakfast for the three of them? Usually, eggs, bacon or sausage, whichever was available, and Zoe usually had a salad on the side. Something about “eating healthier or something like that, he never got it. Surely eggs and bacon were healthy enough on their own. That didn’t matter right now though. He turned on the stove and took out a pan, waiting for the stove to get hot enough.
After all the meals were done, some commotion was heard upstairs in a familiar other language that all three of them shared; German. He couldn’t hear the exact words because there was a door blocking the way, but he could make out the gist of it; “get up, you lazy…” what was that word? Christine never usually insulted her daughter; the way she started off waking her up was usually that with some sort of compliment. He didn’t care enough about it though, that was just her. That wasn’t him because he was used to her always sleeping in, but she could go about life however she wanted.
He plated up the food, then walked upstairs. Christine had Zoe in a hug, with Zoe just sitting down, a tired, somewhat annoyed expression on her face. He had a wide smile on his face as he stepped into the room. “Guess what, Academy winner?” He sat next to Zoe who was as lifeless as a corpse despite her clearly having life in her eyes. “You’re going to be drafted tonight.” A small noise of acknowledgement exited Zoe’s half open mouth. Before Jackson’s food gets cold, he’d bring her downstairs while his wife would go downstairs. He was strong enough to support both of their body weight down the stairs, plus she was relatively light anyways.
Upon reaching the downstairs, Zoe was set down, where she, looking like a zombie, ate. The table was silent, but the general feel at the table was good. The two biggest people in her life had supported her the entire way through, from the lack of interest to the newly found fire that’s been lit under her. Here she was, a zombie thanks to the lack of sleep she got last night from the amount of hype she had around the draft, while Jackson and Christine both had huge grins on their faces.
After he was done eating, her dad was the first person to break the not-so-awkward silence. “We should get you set up to fly. I don’t think there are any SSL teams in Sweden, so I’m sure you’ll have to get packed and leave in the morning.” Sure, that made sense. It’d give her the time to panic about actually being drafted tomorrow. She was hopeful for her future in the SSL, though she did need her own moments to herself to panic so she could keep calm on the plane or in the country she was in. “Yeah, that sounds good.” Both mother and daughter casually said at the same time, though Zoe had a bad case of morning voice, so it sounded like a zombie speaking. “And what do we do about this zombie here?” Her mother asked teasingly while Zoe slowly, but surely, picked away at her plate. “Maybe the zombie can find our daughter and fly with her.” Jackson replied, a cheeky smile across his face that no one could see. As he was the one to cook, he was also on dish duty. That’s usually how it went; evenings were for Christine, mornings for Jackson. Afternoon was a day to get out and eat out usually, and it was mostly supported by Jackson’s SSL money.
Their “zombie” finally finished her food, standing up and walking over to the sink, setting the plate down gently. She then walked to the living room, the sound of running water soothing her to the point she dozed off on the couch.
#-#
“...wake up!” I heard my mother call. It was way too early for this… wait no, what time was it? I woke up and it was about 7:45AM… it couldn’t be later than 9AM, could it? I adjusted herself to be sitting, then looked at my phone. I was shocked to see that it was 10 minutes before the draft started. “What the fuck-?! How long did I sleep for?” I jumped out of my seat. “Someone should’ve woken me up an hour before, what-?!” Both of my parents laughed though. Loudly. It was kind of annoying. “We’ve been trying! You’ve been out like a light after eating.” Jackson had a wide smile across his face. “The draft is going to start. I’ll go out and get snacks for you.
Snacks… perfect… I needed some sugar through my system. Well, I didn’t since I was perfectly healthy, but that little boost of energy would definitely help me out. I happily accepted the idea of having a snack or two as I turned the TV on to tune into the SSL draft.
Jackson walked outside, a coat on just because the forecast said it would be a bit colder today than yesterday, so it would be smarter to have. He usually took 10-15 minutes at the store for snacks, but he planned to take a bit longer. A victory is a victory in the Clarke family, and he wanted to celebrate that victory the right way. Lots, and lots of snacks. Similar to what he did with his brother, Jackson was willing to celebrate until he was 80. If only he could reach that age.
I sat on the floor as I was accustomed to, moving down from the couch to the floor. It was a lot comfier to use the couch’s cushions as a place to rest my head. It also helped relieve the stress in my neck if I had any sometimes. Hopefully that never ends.. I feel like I’d need it, just in case at least.
#-#
The draft went by as it normally did, names being called. Hey, wait, I recognize some of these names! I’m pretty sure most of these players are ones that I’ve played against! Also players I’ve played with! This is cool… though, dad was taking a bit longer than usual. I was kinda getting that snack crave, but I wanted to wait for my name first! I heard sirens outside, and my mom pointed them out, but ignoring them was the best thing for me. Despite the sirens, I wanted to focus on the draft. More sirens, more names. What would come first? The end of the sirens, or my name being called? Evidently, the first thing to come up was my name being called! This was happening, really! I was being drafted into the SSL, this was surreal. Suddenly, a knock at the door interrupted my train of thought. Mom went to answer it, so I got up and followed her. I might as well, I didn’t have much of a reason to stay sitting down there.
A paramedic was at our door. He looked… grim to say the least. The house we lived in wasn’t well known, but it was known who lived here, mostly because of the surname of our family plus the members of our family, I don’t know. I didn’t care enough to know why people knew our address nor why people were obsessed with my dad’s life. He’s just some washed up guy who made it big in the early days of the SSL, nothing too fancy. Well, maybe it was a little fancy since the SSL has some of the best players from around the world, but still. There’s no reason to still be following him now. Focus on the present, there are so many players out there who are better than he is, even when talking about his older fans.
The paramedic looked at my mother, choking on his words before getting something out. “Hello, Mrs. Clarke.” That’s strange. Why would they address her so formally? Well, no, it makes sense. You usually would address someone formally in this sort of setting, right? I continued to listen in, standing behind my mother like some sort of child who was scared of strangers. “I have some sad news about your husband, Jackson Clarke.” Dad? “What happened to him?” I demanded, stepping out from behind mom. He shifted, his gaze being focused on me now. “He was hit by a drunk driver and died in the collision. I understand that this is a difficult loss to deal with, but please know that we are here for you.” He then removed himself from the situation by backing out, leaving both me and mom standing there, a shocked expression on my face and what I could only say was pure depression on my mother’s.
I know I can't use this as TPE, don't worry! This is just for roleplay purposes!
I groaned, the heat of Spain might as well have killed me, it was so hot. Why did he have to stay loyal to this country of all places? Sure, dad was a football player, but it was torture being here, sitting around and waiting. I hate it, I hate everything about this country and the sport. “Grow up already, you’re not going to get through life with that kind of attitude.” My mother berated, bothering me even more. Spain was horrible, I’d rather have gone to America. Why couldn’t we stay there? Why did I have to be the consequence of a mediocre football player?!
I, in my 3-year old fit, threw a spoon on the ground, one that had dad’s name on it. Jackson. I hate it. I hate him. I hate that he’s never around, I hate that he’s always staying late after practice instead of staying at home and taking care of me! Why is he like this? This meaningless sport is taking away the other person who can take care of me the best, why?! I whined and I cried, my mother’s scolding getting louder and louder despite my best attempts to drown it out with the noises I was making. What good could she do for me? It’s not like she built a time machine to make sure he doesn’t play that stupid sport.
#-#
He pushed himself all the time. I stayed at home reading. I couldn’t care less for the TV. Who cared what my sad excuse of a father was doing for Catalunya? I hated those annoying cartoons or the ads talking about the team. I hated all of it. I want to spite him. I don’t know how to spite him though… maybe I could become a track and field star. I’ll show him how amazing I am at running. Wait, doesn’t soccer use your legs? Then I’ll sit at home and pout all day long! I don’t care!
If the world is an oyster, it’s a cruel one. I heard that saying somewhere from my mom. The world’s an oyster waiting to be opened, but this oyster’s refusing to be opened. Why can’t I pry my hands inside and rip it in half? It’s just a shell thing after all. It didn’t matter.
I walked over to my mom, planting my face into her tummy. I felt angry. I felt more than angry, I felt hate. I didn’t want to see him leave me anymore. I wanted to keep him, why couldn’t he stay with me? Why can’t we play together instead?
#-#
“Hey, Zoe!” Jackson called out, working in the colder conditions of Sweden, following his daughter to make sure she would be okay. He wasn’t some sort of helicopter parent, the same his mother had been to him. He was a lot better than that actually, he often pushed for his daughter to be independent from him while he did his own thing to keep up his form. Zoe was also about 16 and was enrolled in a local Swedish school and, despite barely understanding the language, she was able to get passing marks in her classes. She wasn’t by any means an A+ student anywhere, not even in Spain, but she almost always passed her classes. She often hovered around the B range in classes, and that helped her pass. It’s not that she wasn’t school smart, it’s that she preferred to focus on football rather than school, and when she wasn’t playing football, she often handed in assignments all at once rather than them being on time.
Jackson’s call went unanswered by a Zoe who was sleeping peacefully in her bed, having gotten slightly used to the colder climate of Sweden compared to Spain. He went to investigate. Today was a big day for her, and he wanted to celebrate with her. Making her breakfast, bringing her out to a diner, maybe gifting her something. Getting into the SSL was something special for the both of them, like how his brother celebrated his niece’s entrance into the SBA. Whether it was a management role or being put on a team, he wanted to do the same thing that his brother did for his nieces in America; celebrate. It was about the time for him to see his daughter get drafted into the SSL. She was extremely talented, after all. The daughter in question, though, was curled up in a blanket, mumbling something to herself about the Danish in Spanish when Jackson barged in. Surprisingly, she didn’t wake up. Minus the rambling about the Danish, that’s usually what happened on big days in her life. Whether it was a test, it was her own birthday, or it was something else that was a big event, she would always sleep in until the last possible minute. It made getting her out of bed for such big events a nightmare… how would she survive without him if she were to ever get into the SSL finals and win the cup? She wouldn’t get out of bed without someone else’s help. He chuckled at that thought before he closed her door silently, walking downstairs to cook something for breakfast.
What was a usual breakfast for the three of them? Usually, eggs, bacon or sausage, whichever was available, and Zoe usually had a salad on the side. Something about “eating healthier or something like that, he never got it. Surely eggs and bacon were healthy enough on their own. That didn’t matter right now though. He turned on the stove and took out a pan, waiting for the stove to get hot enough.
After all the meals were done, some commotion was heard upstairs in a familiar other language that all three of them shared; German. He couldn’t hear the exact words because there was a door blocking the way, but he could make out the gist of it; “get up, you lazy…” what was that word? Christine never usually insulted her daughter; the way she started off waking her up was usually that with some sort of compliment. He didn’t care enough about it though, that was just her. That wasn’t him because he was used to her always sleeping in, but she could go about life however she wanted.
He plated up the food, then walked upstairs. Christine had Zoe in a hug, with Zoe just sitting down, a tired, somewhat annoyed expression on her face. He had a wide smile on his face as he stepped into the room. “Guess what, Academy winner?” He sat next to Zoe who was as lifeless as a corpse despite her clearly having life in her eyes. “You’re going to be drafted tonight.” A small noise of acknowledgement exited Zoe’s half open mouth. Before Jackson’s food gets cold, he’d bring her downstairs while his wife would go downstairs. He was strong enough to support both of their body weight down the stairs, plus she was relatively light anyways.
Upon reaching the downstairs, Zoe was set down, where she, looking like a zombie, ate. The table was silent, but the general feel at the table was good. The two biggest people in her life had supported her the entire way through, from the lack of interest to the newly found fire that’s been lit under her. Here she was, a zombie thanks to the lack of sleep she got last night from the amount of hype she had around the draft, while Jackson and Christine both had huge grins on their faces.
After he was done eating, her dad was the first person to break the not-so-awkward silence. “We should get you set up to fly. I don’t think there are any SSL teams in Sweden, so I’m sure you’ll have to get packed and leave in the morning.” Sure, that made sense. It’d give her the time to panic about actually being drafted tomorrow. She was hopeful for her future in the SSL, though she did need her own moments to herself to panic so she could keep calm on the plane or in the country she was in. “Yeah, that sounds good.” Both mother and daughter casually said at the same time, though Zoe had a bad case of morning voice, so it sounded like a zombie speaking. “And what do we do about this zombie here?” Her mother asked teasingly while Zoe slowly, but surely, picked away at her plate. “Maybe the zombie can find our daughter and fly with her.” Jackson replied, a cheeky smile across his face that no one could see. As he was the one to cook, he was also on dish duty. That’s usually how it went; evenings were for Christine, mornings for Jackson. Afternoon was a day to get out and eat out usually, and it was mostly supported by Jackson’s SSL money.
Their “zombie” finally finished her food, standing up and walking over to the sink, setting the plate down gently. She then walked to the living room, the sound of running water soothing her to the point she dozed off on the couch.
#-#
“...wake up!” I heard my mother call. It was way too early for this… wait no, what time was it? I woke up and it was about 7:45AM… it couldn’t be later than 9AM, could it? I adjusted herself to be sitting, then looked at my phone. I was shocked to see that it was 10 minutes before the draft started. “What the fuck-?! How long did I sleep for?” I jumped out of my seat. “Someone should’ve woken me up an hour before, what-?!” Both of my parents laughed though. Loudly. It was kind of annoying. “We’ve been trying! You’ve been out like a light after eating.” Jackson had a wide smile across his face. “The draft is going to start. I’ll go out and get snacks for you.
Snacks… perfect… I needed some sugar through my system. Well, I didn’t since I was perfectly healthy, but that little boost of energy would definitely help me out. I happily accepted the idea of having a snack or two as I turned the TV on to tune into the SSL draft.
Jackson walked outside, a coat on just because the forecast said it would be a bit colder today than yesterday, so it would be smarter to have. He usually took 10-15 minutes at the store for snacks, but he planned to take a bit longer. A victory is a victory in the Clarke family, and he wanted to celebrate that victory the right way. Lots, and lots of snacks. Similar to what he did with his brother, Jackson was willing to celebrate until he was 80. If only he could reach that age.
I sat on the floor as I was accustomed to, moving down from the couch to the floor. It was a lot comfier to use the couch’s cushions as a place to rest my head. It also helped relieve the stress in my neck if I had any sometimes. Hopefully that never ends.. I feel like I’d need it, just in case at least.
#-#
The draft went by as it normally did, names being called. Hey, wait, I recognize some of these names! I’m pretty sure most of these players are ones that I’ve played against! Also players I’ve played with! This is cool… though, dad was taking a bit longer than usual. I was kinda getting that snack crave, but I wanted to wait for my name first! I heard sirens outside, and my mom pointed them out, but ignoring them was the best thing for me. Despite the sirens, I wanted to focus on the draft. More sirens, more names. What would come first? The end of the sirens, or my name being called? Evidently, the first thing to come up was my name being called! This was happening, really! I was being drafted into the SSL, this was surreal. Suddenly, a knock at the door interrupted my train of thought. Mom went to answer it, so I got up and followed her. I might as well, I didn’t have much of a reason to stay sitting down there.
A paramedic was at our door. He looked… grim to say the least. The house we lived in wasn’t well known, but it was known who lived here, mostly because of the surname of our family plus the members of our family, I don’t know. I didn’t care enough to know why people knew our address nor why people were obsessed with my dad’s life. He’s just some washed up guy who made it big in the early days of the SSL, nothing too fancy. Well, maybe it was a little fancy since the SSL has some of the best players from around the world, but still. There’s no reason to still be following him now. Focus on the present, there are so many players out there who are better than he is, even when talking about his older fans.
The paramedic looked at my mother, choking on his words before getting something out. “Hello, Mrs. Clarke.” That’s strange. Why would they address her so formally? Well, no, it makes sense. You usually would address someone formally in this sort of setting, right? I continued to listen in, standing behind my mother like some sort of child who was scared of strangers. “I have some sad news about your husband, Jackson Clarke.” Dad? “What happened to him?” I demanded, stepping out from behind mom. He shifted, his gaze being focused on me now. “He was hit by a drunk driver and died in the collision. I understand that this is a difficult loss to deal with, but please know that we are here for you.” He then removed himself from the situation by backing out, leaving both me and mom standing there, a shocked expression on my face and what I could only say was pure depression on my mother’s.
I know I can't use this as TPE, don't worry! This is just for roleplay purposes!
